


Reverie

by LeaOotori



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Arthur's a prince still but the Round Table exists cuz author said so, Boyfriends, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff, M/M, Thirsty Merlin, the sexy times are pretty vague, this is honestly just so sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:15:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25156087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeaOotori/pseuds/LeaOotori
Summary: Merlin tried not to lick his lips too obviously as he watched the prince. Arthur was moving across the field, rotating his sword deftly, making the sun reflect off of the blade into his golden hair and onto the sheen of sweat on his face. The laces of his shirt were loose (though Merlin could’ve sworn he’d tied them rather tightly) and drops of perspiration were dripping and gathering at the base of his strong neck, rolling over the flexing muscles and collarbones and disappearing under the flimsy cloth.I need to stop this,Merlin thought to himself, trying in vain to turn away. He reluctantly dragged his eyes away from Arthur’s sternum only to be woefully distracted by the perfect swell of his ass and thighs and calves in those perfectly fitting trousers that gripped his rippling muscles.Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.ORMerlin is thirsty for his new boyfriend and can barely control himself.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 224





	Reverie

**Author's Note:**

> hello :) ... i was just writing my fic "no homo ft. dumbassery" when i thought it was unfair that arthur was the only one so horny all the time, so i decided to even the playing field a lil and this happened 
> 
> enjoy :D

“Oi, Merlin,” Gwaine called, out of breath and exasperated as he yelled across the field for the third time. “What’s with him? Is he dead?” 

Elyan looked over, following his fellow knight’s gaze to Merlin standing dead still on the other side of the knights’ training ground, fingers curled frighteningly white over a newly polished shield. “If he holds that any tighter it’s going to break,” the knight muttered between panting breaths. 

“Somebody’s gotta go check on him,” Percival said, looking remarkably put together compared to the others, who all looked like they’d just fought their way across a battlefield. Quite unfairly, Percival looked like he had just warmed up. 

“I’ll go,” Lancelot said, as noble as ever. The other knights didn’t argue, far too drained to offer to go instead. 

Lancelot trekked across the field, leaving the others behind as he walked up to Merlin, who didn’t even seem to acknowledge that he saw him.  _ Is he sick?  _ “Merlin?” The knight called out as he got within a few paces of his friend. “Merlin?” 

The manservant in question was looking intently in one direction, eyes glued conspicuously on a blatantly obvious target.  _ Ah, so that’s it,  _ Lancelot thought, fighting the urge to laugh as he followed Merlin’s gaze.  _ It’s nothing then.  _ Assured that everything was alright, he made his way back across the field.  _ Gwaine’s going to enjoy this.  _

* * *

_ That should not be allowed.  _ Merlin felt like he had tunnel vision.  _ Agility training, my ass.  _ What had happened to the strict decorum of the knights? Since when were they allowed to fight without their chain mail and armor? 

_ “You won’t always be fully prepared when you’re attacked,”  _ was the terrible excuse that the Royal Prat had used to justify training the knights in nothing but trousers and shirts, and it was  _ completely unfair.  _

Merlin tried not to lick his lips too obviously as he watched the prince. Arthur was moving across the field, rotating his sword deftly, making the sun reflect off of the blade into his golden hair and onto the sheen of sweat on his face. The laces of his shirt were loose (though Merlin could’ve sworn he’d tied them rather tightly) and drops of perspiration were dripping and gathering at the base of his strong neck, rolling over the flexing muscles and collarbones and disappearing under the flimsy cloth. 

_ I need to stop this,  _ Merlin thought to himself, trying in vain to turn away. He reluctantly dragged his eyes away from Arthur’s sternum only to be woefully distracted by the perfect swell of his ass and thighs and calves in those perfectly fitting trousers that gripped his rippling muscles. 

_ Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.  _

He could see it now—  _ tanned skin over built shoulders with muscles contracting as the shirt came off. Arthur crowding Merlin into a door with those strong arms, Merlin running his hands over those built thighs _ — Merlin tried to swallow, but it got stuck in his throat, halfway between a moan and a scream as he felt his blood rush to a highly inconvenient place.  _ Damnit. God fucking damn it.  _

He tugged his tunic lower uncomfortably, looking around to see Sir Jonathan’s squire hauling a set of targets onto the field. “Hey,” Merlin yelled out, jogging over and praying that his face wasn’t red. “Hey, Harold, could you let Arthur know I’m taking care of his chambers if he asks for me?”

The squire agreed readily, and thus relieved, Merlin rushed back into the castle, sending George onto the training fields as his temporary replacement out of pure spite.  _ It’s his own fault I had to leave.  _

He retreated to Arthur’s chambers, pacing back and forth and trying to calm himself down.  _ You need to stop, Merlin! You need to stop right now!  _ He tried to slap himself, but failed to snap himself out of whatever was possessing him. No matter what he did, he found it absolutely impossible to erase the fantasies his brain had conjured up of Arthur all sweaty and exhausted in his casual clothes. 

His horny brain had even gone as far as to write dialogues and scenarios that took ahold of him like a plague. “For heavens' sake...” Merlin grumbled, grabbing the armor that Arthur was _supposed_ to be wearing from where it was laying on the back table, polishing it furiously and trying to direct his blood anywhere but south. Alas, it was a futile endeavor, as even this relatively innocent chore reminded Merlin of how impossibly _broad_ Arthur’s shoulders were. 

He closed his eyes, running his hand over the cold metal and imagining that instead it was Arthur’s warm chest.  _ I’ve got it bad.  _

Letting out a frustrated groan, Merlin buried his head in his hands.  _ Whatever we…  _ **_are…_ ** _ is so new. And here I am, lusting like a lovestruck maiden already.  _ Not that that description was exactly off the mark. At least the lovestruck part, anyways. But Merlin and Arthur had barely done more than kiss briefly and brush hands in dark rooms. They hadn't even talked about a relationship of any sort of sexual nature, but here Merlin was, already losing his mind.

“Merlin, stop it!” The manservant said out loud to himself, hitting his forehead on the table as if that would be enough to dislodge the dirty thoughts. I _f that prat knew about this, he would never let me hear the end of it._

As if on cue, the door to the Crown Prince’s chambers was thrown open dramatically. And lo and behold, the object of poor Merlin’s unwholesome thoughts took the opportunity to make an appearance, face flushed as if he had run all the way to his rooms without pausing a second. Perhaps he had. “Merlin,” he said, voice filled with doubt and worry. “Merlin?”

“Sire?” Merlin squeaked, voice higher in his infinite panic and embarrassment. “What are you—"

Arthur slammed the door shut behind him, making his servant jump. He locked it with quick fingers, stepping closer. “Merlin? Are you alright?”

“What are you doing here?” Merlin talked over him, words coming out in a rush. “There’s still at least another hour until training is over—"

Arthur seemed to hesitate but he reached out, touching Merlin’s cheek. The contact was feather-light, as if preparing to be pushed away. Preparing to lie about his motivations and back off and laugh it off, just like they used to. But  Merlin could feel himself melting, the warmth and anxiety in Arthur’s eyes making him feel terribly guilty. Somehow, he couldn’t hold back a laugh. A smile split his face as he reached up, still slightly shy as he covered Arthur’s hand with his own and pressed it into his own cheek. Arthur watched him, simultaneously amused, bashful, and confused. “Have you finally lost it?” He asked, voice soft and barely carrying. 

Merlin looked up, wondering if Arthur truly was this dense. “You’re driving me insane,” he said finally. “I’m going to die. I’m going to die like this, and it’ll all be your fault.”

“Like what?” Arthur asked, eyes wide and baffled. 

“ _ Painfully horny.”  _

The prince’s jaw was working in the air as a variety of emotions flashed across his face. Surprise, relief, happiness, shyness— before finally settling into a smug smirk that made Merlin’s blood boil in more ways than one. 

“Oh,” the blonde finally managed to say eloquently. “Oh.” 

“Shut up,” Merlin grumbled, turning away. “Clotpole.”

“I didn’t say anything—" Arthur protested, smile spreading painfully wide. “And hey, watch it! I  _ am  _ your prince.”

“A prince who’s head over heels for me, apparently,” Merlin said, the words inducing a giddy storm of butterflies in his stomach.  _ Honestly, what's wrong with me? I'm acting like a frivolous lady.  _

“I'm not the only one head over heels, apparently. _You_ have run away from your job to nurse a hard-on for me,” Arthur quipped, earning an annoyed look from Merlin. 

“ _ Gods,  _ I knew I shouldn’t have said anything, you’re so  _ insufferable _ —"

Arthur reached out wordlessly, arms twisting around Merlin’s back and pulling him close. The air in the brunet’s lungs seemed to evaporate all at once, leaving him stiff and wide-eyed, inches from the prince’s face. “Now, why don’t you shed some light on what gave you  _ this  _ little problem.” He accompanied the words with brave wandering fingers brushing against Merlin’s trousers where an embarrassingly obvious arousal was making itself known, making the warlock jump. 

_ Is it too late to ask Kilgharrah to burn me to a crisp?  _ Merlin clenched his jaw shut.  “I—" For once in his life, he couldn’t find words to say. 

One of Arthur’s scandalous hands found it way up to the nape of Merlin’s neck, carding gentle fingers through his dark hair. It was soothing, soft,  _ sweet.  _ Merlin relaxed, sagging against the blonde and letting his own hands travel up to Arthur’s shoulders, tracing the muscles that had branded themselves in his imagination. 

“So?” Arthur prompted, but Merlin paid no mind, instead leaning forward to connect their lips in a slow, languid kiss. No matter how much build up there was to this moment, Merlin couldn’t bring himself to rush through this. He wanted to take his time, enjoy every single movement and memorize it. 

As for Arthur, he seemed to have no complaints. His hands immediately traveled to more treacherous terrain, slipping under Merlin’s tunic and tracing the new skin with a nearly bruising grip as his mouth discovered new places along Merlin’s neck to claim.  The brunet arched into Arthur’s touch, pulling at his soft golden hair, already having gone cross-eyed from sheer overwhelming happiness and affection despite the two of them still being entirely clothed. " God, you’re beautiful,” Arthur mumbled under his breath as he yanked Merlin’s neckerchief off and tossed it aside. 

Merlin flushed, trying to control his breath before he interrupted this tryst by hyperventilating. “You’re not bad yourself,” he managed, the words coming out flat enough that Arthur disregarded them entirely. 

Instead, the prince pulled away from where Merlin was backed up against the table (when on  _ Earth  _ had that happened?) to pull off his shirt, and  _ gods above  _ it was better than anything Merlin’s imagination could have ever conjured up. 

After all, the brunet had not accounted for the tiny scars littering Arthur’s chest, or the way his shoulders creased the surface of glistening golden skin as he moved, or the way his shirt would stick to his back, or the  _ look _ Arthur would give him with hooded eyes, or even how the shirt would mess up his hair and make it stick up in random places—  _ I’m a goner,  _ Merlin decided. 

“You still haven’t told me what made you so worked up,” Arthur says, saving Merlin from his own mind (he was already halfway through writing a rather bawdy poem). 

“It was, uh…” Merlin hesitated. But the heat of the moment was pressing down on him, making him lightheaded and throwing any shy part of him out the window. “When you were training,” he began, stepping forward to trail his fingers down Arthur’s chest. He was warm, so  _ warm.  _ “I saw you fighting… in just your trousers and shirt and I just…you looked so...” he swallowed. “I couldn’t even think straight.” 

Arthur’s eyes were dilated, dark and hungry. “Is that so,” he said, tucking a lock of hair behind Merlin’s ear. “Well, all you had to do was ask.” He grinned, obviously pleased and overly smug. “I’m all yours.” 

The words came out as a husky whisper, setting a fire low in Merlin’s stomach.  _ God, he’s perfect.  _ Without even waiting another second, the brunet shoved Arthur back towards his canopied bed. Arthur’s face morphed into one of surprise as his knees buckled over the edge of the mattress, making him bounce into a mess of pillows and sheets. “You’re rather eager.” 

“You have no idea,” Merlin said with a wicked smile. He dropped to his knees sharply in front of Arthur, watching as the prince sat up. The sweat from his training session was still shimmering over the surface of his skin, and with the window behind his head, the afternoon light haloed his hair, making him look angelic-- but the rest of him was anything but. 

His pants were slung low on his hips, exposing new skin and strong muscles underneath it. His posture was frighteningly relaxed, with his strong thighs spread, feet planted strongly on the floor, head cocked as he watched Merlin through half-lidded eyes. Merlin could feel his breath catch as he watched the prince's face and the smooth flexing of his perfect muscles-- the sheer  _ power  _ Arthur embodied in that moment made him a picture of the Once and Future King of legend that he was destined to be, and it nearly made Merlin lose it right then and there. 

“Well?” Arthur prompted, a particularly salacious smile crawling across his face. 

Merlin leaned forward, sliding his hands across Arthur’s thighs and pulling his trousers and smalls off with the same nimble fingers that had helped him put them on just that morning. The prince’s skin felt like it was on fire, warming Merlin’s cold fingers. Merlin pulled his own shirt off, desperate for more direct contact. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long,” he said, pressing his mouth to Arthur’s arousal. 

“God _ damnit _ , you're going to be the end of me,” Arthur groaned, leaning forward to watch Merlin with sharp eyes. He reached out, threading his fingers through Merlin’s dark hair, reveling in its softness and tugging at it periodically. His groans were echoing through the room, blood rushing south as he continued to card his fingers through his servant's hair. “ _ Fuck you,  _ Merlin _ ,”  _ Arthur cursed when the brunet made a rather clever use of his tongue. __

Merlin moved back, lips quirking up into a pleased smile. “Not yet,” Merlin said-- or at least, he had been meaning to say, but the couple was interrupted by a muffled thump right outside the door of Arthur’s chambers, startling them both. 

“What in the Triple Goddess’s name--” Arthur began, but they were met with their answer a mere moment later. 

“ _ Told you _ they ran away to fuck!” Said Gwaine in his quietest voice from the corridor (which wasn’t very quiet at all), followed by Elyan trying to control his laughter. 

“You owe me,” whispered a voice that was undoubtedly Percival.

Arthur’s jaw flexed, staring holes through the door. “They’re all going to wish they were dead.” 

Merlin hummed in agreement, getting up from the floor and standing in front of the prince. “That can wait,” he said, pushing his own trousers off. “I think we have a more urgent problem right now.” 

Arthur’s eyes wandered down as he swallowed audibly. He reached out as if hypnotized, grabbing Merlin’s hips and pulling his servant onto the bed. “I would be inclined to agree.” 

**Author's Note:**

> ya, i have no idea what happened or why either plz don't ask ahahah 
> 
> i honestly haven't even read over this and def not my best work and i'm sorry if i disappointed everyone by not finishing the smexy times lol this just came out in one go and i thought i could just entertain some people with it for the time being :) in all honesty i might take this down after quarantine who knows, quarantine me and no-quarantine me are very very different people 
> 
> plz stay safe and healthy guys!!! 
> 
> if you can, please leave a kudos or comment if you enjoyed, i really like reading them :) thanks for reading, i hope i'll see you around <3


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